Replay
by Aya-kun Rose
Summary: Isumi's been a recluse since that fateful game with Hikaru, and now Waya's come to see what's wrong. Slight Shounen-ai, I think. Incomplete--Tell me if ya want more!


**Replay**

Waya squinted at the glittering light that fell from the blushing western sky as he took the stairs up out of the subway two at a time. A cool breeze rushed down past him into the relative darkness of the underground station. Evening was quickly approaching. Waya pulled his army-print jacket tighter as he ran off through the streets of Tokyo.

He grit his teeth as he weaved through the pedestrian traffic. He had no idea why he suddenly needed to see Isumi. He had just found himself on the way over, without any reason. No good reason, anyway. Guilt, he supposed, along with advice from the Go institute's teacher had kept him from calling his friend before now. In fact, Waya had not seen or even heard from Isumi at all since the end of the pro exam.

That was when Waya had graduated into the world of professional Go; and Isumi had been swept out the door with the rest, only a paper width away from sliding easily up to the top.

Abruptly, he realized he was standing in front of his friend's apartment door. He blinked, surprised that he had hardly noticed his travel. Waya slowly raised his hand to knock. He wondered what he was doing there, what he was going to say. An instant before his fist connected with the door, a soft, familiar sound from within made him pause.

The gentle click and scrape of smooth glass on wood; a sound every Go player could recognize their entire life. Isumi was replaying a game: the consistent rustle of stones in their separate bowls and the repetitive tapping as precise, skilled fingers carefully placed each one in an intricate, mesmerizing pattern sprawling across the universe on the board, singularly unique every time. Waya listened, with his head down and hand poised, until he could hear the click no longer.

Waya's hand fell to his side. Isumi would not want to be bothered. Sometimes it's important to be alone for a while, he repeated in his head. That's what Shinoda-sensei had told him. He really didn't understand all that the teacher had said about Isumi at the time, but Waya had still kept his distance. He had stayed away until now, and even as he was facing the older Go player's door, he felt too close.

Grudgingly, he forced himself to turn. Just walk away, he thought, he'll never even know you were here. Waya paced one heavy step down the narrow hallway. But there he halted; he could not make himself go any farther. Perhaps it was meant to be, because no sooner had he taken that single step, he heard a thudding sound accompanied instantaneously by the startling crash of what could only be the Go stones and bowls cascading to the floor. Without a moment's thought, Waya spun and pounded his fist against the door.

"Isumi-san!" he yelled, "It's me, it's Waya!" He waited anxiously for a reply, wondering what had happened inside the apartment.

In what seemed like ages later, Waya found the door swinging open, revealing a weary-looking Isumi. Waya was surprised and immediately concerned with his friend's appearance. "Isumi-san--" he started.

"Waya," the older boy cut him off. He turned sideways to Waya, not facing him. "Come in." Isumi left the door open and shuffled back into the apartment, leaving Waya to follow.

The interior of Isumi's small living area was dim and strangely cluttered, Waya noticed. He paused at the entryway momentarily, slipping out of his shoes, before closing the door behind him with a click. Stepping into the main room, he saw that in addition to the uncharacteristic mess, one of the round, wooden bowls had fallen to the floor, strewing its snowy white inhabitants chaotically. The night-filled bowl was overturned as well, but lay on its side in place on the low table alongside the worn board that carried the scattered evidence of a game almost violently interrupted.

Isumi knelt and began to clean up the unsettled stones. Waya quickly went to his side and dropped to his knees to help. He scooped together white stones and deposited them into the container Isumi held out. Over the bowl, brown eyes met briefly with blue, but Isumi's soon dropped as he placed the article next to its opposite match on the table. Waya's expression darkened ever so slightly in the direction of Isumi.

"What happened, Isumi-san?" he asked.

Isumi paused in gathering black stones, then let the collection fall slowly into their designated bowl. Without looking at Waya, he brushed the rest off the table, into his waiting palm. "I knocked it over," he replied, his words accented by the trickle of a dark glass waterfall.

"I could sorta see that!" Waya laughed, but there was something about Isumi that kept him from being too exuberant. Maybe it was the quiet way in which he had answered, or maybe it was how he was avoiding looking straight at Waya. Whatever it was, it was making the brown-haired boy uneasy.


End file.
